


Shakespeare Girl

by benaddicted4life (whosgirl22)



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Books, F/M, Libraries, Music, Reading, References to Shakespeare, random meetings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:11:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosgirl22/pseuds/benaddicted4life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hilary's studying is interrupted by Tom Hiddleston. Wait - WHAT?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely babygotbatch via a Tumblr challenge. All actions and descriptions entirely of my own creation. Hope you like it dearest!

Hilary jerked upright, head snapping back and eyes flying open as she prevented herself from nodding off for the third time in as many minutes. She glanced around nervously, hoping that no one had witnessed her micro-sleep episode. That would be embarrassing. Luckily the library was just as deserted as it had been when she had arrived four hours earlier. She sighed, relieved. God she was tired.

She yawned loudly, covering her mouth with one hand even as she scrabbled to recover her place in the book in front of her with the other. _Othello_ was a lot to take in this time of night. She enjoyed the complexity of the tragedies, but they were like a fine wine – meant to be savored slowly over time, not downed in one gulp. The exam was in a few days, however, and she’d been so busy with her other classes that she’d barely had time to study – hence this late night cram session. It was almost getting to the point where it was doing more harm than good though. _Thirty more minutes_ , she thought, _then I can go home and go to bed_. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow supporting the weight as her gaze returned to the book resting on the table in front of her. It had been a long week, and it was only Wednesday. Honestly, the weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

She hummed a line from her favorite Billie Holiday song and continued to read. Minutes passed. Suddenly she heard the rustle and scrape of a chair being pulled out on the other side of the table. She kept her gaze fixed firmly downwards, trying to stay focused as the person, whoever they were, settled in across from her. There was a thump, the sound of rather hefty book hitting the wooden surface, then another as it was opened. Hilary smiled – she rather enjoyed hardbound books but it was rare to find another person who felt the same way. Most preferred the simplicity and ease of paperbacks or even electronic reading devices, like Kindles or Nooks. There was something about the weight and solidity of the classic hardcover, though, that had always held appeal. The heavier the book, the more real it felt to her. Call it a quirk of being an English Lit major.She smiled to herself again at the thought and turned a page.

Time crept on, the silence in the room broken only by the rustle of pages turning, the soft wisp of exhaled breaths, and the occasional creak of a chair. Having finally reached a stopping point, Hilary closed her collection of the tragedies with a relieved sigh and glanced up, having the time to now satisfy her curiosity about the person sitting across from her.

It was a man who had joined her at the table, and a rather lean one at that. Hilary judged him to be about six to eight years older than her – he certainly didn’t have the look of the typical student. _Perhaps he’s a professor_ , she thought, intrigued. He sat in a mirror image of her position, one forearm resting on the table even as the opposite hand propped his chin up. He was totally engrossed in his book (hardcover, called it), and the downward slant of his head meant that she couldn’t actually see his face. The angle did reveal some really great hair however; it was a dark blond, almost light brown, spread across tight curls. Hillary ran a hand across her own light brown hair, sans curls. It had fallen out of its bun during the course of her stay and she leaned back a bit as she re-adjusted the band holding it together. She hated having hair in her face, especially when it was as long as it currently was, but it was too late at night to worry about anything more elaborate than a simple ponytail.

She picked up her collection of Shakespeare’s tragedies and leaned over to grab her bag from where it rested against the chair. She set it on the table and flipped open the top flap, sliding the book inside as she did so. Having successfully freed her hands, she reached into the side pocket for her iPod and headphones, wanting a reward for the hours spent in silence. It never worked for her to study with music playing – she would get so caught up in the story of the song that she could never get into the story actually written down on paper. Writing essays was different – music in that instance helped the words flow more smoothly, for which she was grateful. Silence all the time was boring.

Having unwrapped the cord, she slid the headphones into her ears with one hand as she cradled her ipod in the palm of the other. She pressed play, and the smooth tones of Gladys Knight filled her ears. “LA, proved too much for the man,” she crooned and Hilary smiled. Nothing like a little soul music to make everything better.

“Too much for the man, he couldn’t take it” she joined in, half humming, half singing under her breath. She looked around, studying the table to make sure she had everything. _ID, check. Ipod, check. Wallet, check. Yep that should be it_ , she thought gratefully. The man across from her kept his head down, still thoroughly engrossed in the veritable tome he had in front of him.

She smiled as she pushed her chair back and stood, sliding her bag over one shoulder and moving off in the direction of the door, happy to be going home at last. She turned up Gladys, eager to lose herself in the melodies and harmonies of Motown. She had almost made it to the door when a sudden tap on her shoulder made her stop abruptly. She spun around, heart racing, only to find the man from the table standing before her, one hand outstretched; in it lay her phone.

“Excuse me,” he said, the epitome of politeness (from what she could hear – she wasn’t quite sure because Gladys was still crooning rather loudly). She pressed pause as the hand holding her phone wiggled. “You dropped your phone.”

Hilary studied the now visible face of the man who had been sitting across from her, and tried not to faint as she slowly took her headphones out of her ears. She knew that face. In fact, she couldn’t think of anyone who didn’t. That was Tom Hiddleston’s face. THE Tom Hiddleston, of Loki and War Horse fame. She closed her eyes slowly, convinced that when she reopened them he would be gone. Her eyes reopened and, nope, he was still there. All 6’2’’ of him. Tall and lean and gorgeous, with bright eyes and smile that could light a thousand candles. He was wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans but holy fuck, did he look damn fine doing it.

 _Get it together Hil_ , she scolded herself. _No need to scare him off entirely with your super stalker fan mode_. “I’m sorry – what was that?” she replied finally.

“Your phone,” he repeated, dulcet British tones holding just a hint of amusement. “It fell out of your bag when you left the table.” He smiled, blue eyes twinkling. “I couldn’t just let you walk off without it, could I?”

“No…” Hilary replied, slowly extending her hand not holding the ipod out toward the large one hovering in front of her. It turned, and the iphone dropped into her small palm. “I mean -” and she shook her head, frustrated by her lack of properly working words. “Thanks,” she tried again.

“My pleasure,” Tom replied smoothly. They stood in awkward silence for a few moments, Hilary wishing desperately that she could think of something to say that wasn’t along the lines of _Oh my god you’re Tom Hiddleston and I’ve been in love with you forever_ or _Oh my god you’re Tom Hiddleston and I’ve been in love with you forever_.

She cleared her throat and gestured over her shoulder with the hand holding her phone. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful and rush off but I should probably go…early classes tomorrow and all.” She gave herself a mental kick even as her face stretched in an awkward smile.

“Oh. Right.” Tom laughed (was that nervously? why would he be nervous?) and made a shooing motion. “Off you go then – far be it for me to stand in the way of a proper education.”

It was Hilary’s turn to give an awkward laugh. “Perish the thought.” She smiled again, a bit less tense. “Have a good night,” she said. “And thanks again.” This earned her another smile.

“You too. And seriously – it was no problem.” He waggled his fingers at her and she gave a small answering wave before turning and continuing toward the door.

 _Well that was probably the most surreal and weird experience I’ve ever had_ , she thought bemusedly as she slipped her phone into her jeans pocket. She paused, shaking her head wonderingly. _I just met Tom Hiddleston at an ungodly hour in my uni library_. She laughed at the ridiculousness of it before putting her headphones back in her ears and pressing play, relaxing slightly as Gladys ushered her into the night. It seemed highly unlikely that she would ever see Tom again. Too bad – he was actually as nice in person as she had always imagined he would be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lord I am SO SORRY it has taken me this long to update this. I really have no excuses. Except that I am a very sporadic writer. ...yep that's all I've got. Enjoy!

Tom was mad. Mostly at himself. He’d finally gotten the chance to interact with Shakespeare girl, and he hadn’t even managed to get her name. Or give his own. Not that he wanted to impress her with his fame or anything. Actually, it was kind of nice that she hadn’t asked for an autograph or picture. He didn’t mind the notoriety, he really didn’t, but there were times where it all got a bit…overwhelming. And it made it nearly impossible to date girls of worth. If she was only interested because of how she perceived him to be, well, that wouldn’t last very long would it? This girl seemed different though. For one thing, she was well read. That was always a plus. She was pretty cute too, with her light brown hair and bright green eyes. And she hadn’t seemed too overwhelmed by seeing him up close. That was good. Tom sighed.

It had all started a few weeks ago, this…interest (he wasn’t calling it an obsession because that seemed a tad too stalkerish). He had been sitting in his favorite corner of the library, reading _Othello_ for the umpteenth time, when he had heard a rich, contralto voice humming a Frank Sinatra song. He’d looked up to find a girl with her headphones in walking by, no, swaying by, as she danced to the music playing in her head.

Tom smiled as he thought about that first glimpse. It was rare to find someone who felt comfortable enough to dance and sing in public. And there were other people around, so it’s not like she had thought she was alone. Simply adorable, that’s what it was.

He’d made it a point to come back to the library every day after that. It was hardly a sacrifice – he really and truly enjoyed being surrounded by books and the classics selection here was exquisite, so he was never bored. He noticed that she preferred the classics too; another point in her favor. He’d taken to calling her Shakespeare girl because Shakespeare always made him smile, just like she did.

He shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all. _You’re a grown man Tom_ , he thought disgustedly. _Get a hold of yourself._

But try as he might, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Then last night had happened. She had been so cute, first with the intense concentration on her book, then with the singing (that voice was beautiful) and then when she was all flustered when he returned her mobile. Even the excuse of having to go to an early class was adorable. _Oh Thomas_ he sighed to himself, _you are well and truly sunk._

His gaze refocused on the book in front of him. _Othello._ What a classic (no pun intended). Definitely one of his favorites, of Shakespeare’s and just in general. He might have been mistaken, but he was pretty sure Shakespeare girl was reading it the night before. He hoped so, in any case. It would be a good conversation starter. He lifted his eyes to scan the library once more, hoping that this time she would be there. No such luck. He sighs. _Oh well Thomas. She’ll come in eventually._ That or find the number he had put on her mobile before handing it back the night before. He had been a bit unsure about that maneuver at the time, thinking it might cross the line between coincidence and stalker. He’d gone ahead and seized the opportunity though, because life was short and this girl was the most interesting thing to come along in a long time.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, his own mobile vibrated in his pocket. It was a short vibration – the kind that signaled a text message instead of a phone call. Tom’s heart gave a quick leap at the sound. _Stop that Thomas – it could be anyone_ , he scolded himself _._ But even as the words flew across his brain, he couldn’t help but hope that it was indeed Shakespeare girl on the other end. He glanced quickly at the screen and let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hello?” the message began. “Is this who I think it is? If it’s the man from last night at the library, I just want to say up front that I know who you are and if you’re playing with me….I’m not interested."

Well, that was blunt; she definitely wasn’t pursuing him for his fame. Looks like his first impression had been right then. He smiled as his fingers flew across the virtual keyboard.

“Hello” he began. “Thank you for being honest with me about knowing who I am. If you wouldn’t find it off-putting, would you like to get coffee and talk about books sometime?” _Good start Thomas. Now what to write next..._ He chewed on his thumb, thinking for a moment. _Yes, that could work_ , he mused as he continued to type. “You seem like the type of girl a fellow could be himself with. No shenanigans here, I promise. And please don’t be afraid to tell me no if you’re truly not interested.” He paused. Yes, that would have to do. Holding his breath, he crossed his fingers and pressed send.

*** 

Hilary was dumbfounded. Tom FUCKING Hiddleston had just asked if she would ‘like to have coffee and talk about books’ with him. When she had first noticed the number in her phone under the simple ‘Tom’ she had been confused, and then incredulous. She had called herself all sorts of unpleasant names after pressing send on that first text. What kind of idiot tells Tom Hiddleston that they’re not interested in him? But Hillary had always been an honest soul, and she figured she owed him the same courtesy she would show for any person in his situation. She had been sure that her response would be the end of it. But amazingly, the gamble had paid off. And now it was all she could to stay still instead of jumping up and down and screaming her head off. _Deep breaths Hil._ With only slightly shaking fingers, she started to type out her response.

“Fantastic. Do you know that little place a few blocks down from the library? Grace’s Coffee Place. I could meet you there at 7 pm tomorrow? Or earlier – I have most of the evening free.” She pressed send and let out a huge sigh. This was insane. Setting her phone down, she went to grab a glass of water to calm her nerves. She returned to her seat just in time to see the text response flash up on her screen.

“Grace’s sounds perfect. Can’t wait.” And then a few seconds later: “PS – it seems unfair that you should know my name but I don’t know yours...care to enlighten me?”

Hilary laughed and then groaned. Oh no, he was as cute in real life as he was on the big screen. “It’s Hilary,” she typed back. “See you tomorrow, Tom. Hope you have a great night x.” She set the phone down on the table and leaned back in her chair, heart racing. Listen to that. Casually calling him Tom like they hadn’t just met yesterday and weren’t going for coffee tomorrow. She was still in shock. Tom FUCKING Hiddleston wanted to have coffee. With her. English Lit graduate student and lover of all things Tom Hiddleston. Oh jesus what was she going to do? And to top it all off, her Shakespeare exam was tomorrow morning. She heaved a sigh and rocked back toward the table far enough to grab the glass of water and down it, almost falling over as her phone pinged once more.

“Your name is lovely,” she read aloud as she leaned over the table once again. “Have a beautiful night, Hilary. Can’t wait for tomorrow xx” Oh sweet jesus. OH SWEET JESUS. How was this her life now? _Better try to sleep Hil,_ she told herself _. It’s gonna be a hell of a Friday._ Standing up, she gave into her more excitable nature and danced her way across the kitchen and into the bedroom. _Yep,_ she thought as she crossed the threshold. _HELL of a Friday._

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't know how long this is going to be....I only have a few more chapters planned but that could very easily change. 
> 
> Comments/feedback very much appreciated! xx


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